The Wrath of Oblivion
by FireCube
Summary: Zoe, a teenager who doesn't yet know she can time travel is forced to deal with the aftermath of her best friend's disappearance and piece together what happened and why. Inspired by Sherlock, Doctor Who, and Veronica Mars. OC fic


Her fingers moved gracefully, dancing like miniature ballerinas as the bow bounced across the strings smoothly and seamlessly. The beautiful sound resonated through her small and understated apartment as she played Bach Chaconne perfectly. The sunlight peered in through the window and gave the room a magical glow, as if some divine being had decided to take a listen to this magnificent musician.

Grace Clair had been playing violin for thirteen years. Nimble fingers and a fast mind won her a scholarship to the prestigious school Julliard, where she was going to study to become a professional violinist. Fate was holding a candle in front of her, a bright flame lighting the way through darkness to a successful future.

After Grace finished the piece and carefully packed up her most prized possession, her friend, Zoe, began to clap in earnest.

"Oh my god! That was amazing! I am so jealous of you right now!" Zoe exclaimed.

Grace stared at the floor nervously as she cracked a smile, not daring to look into Zoe's eyes, for fear of intimidation. Yes, they were the best of friends, but Zoe's overpowering and often assertive persona scared Grace a little. Grace was by no means introverted, but rather fearful, of basically everything, even cynical at times. Grace continued to stare at the floor until a bone-crushing force rammed into her. Gasping for breath and wincing in pain, Grace looked up at Zoe, who had practically jumped on top of her for a massive hug.

"I can't believe you'll be eighteen tomorrow! You'll be able to… um... do cool stuff!"

Grace inhaled deeply as she pulled herself out from Zoe's rigid grip.

"Totally cool stuff. I can start an addiction with the lottery, vote for a stupid politician who does nothing but smile and look pretty, oh and I almost forgot, I can kill myself and waste money at the same time by smoking! Live life to the fullest." Grace's sarcasm was hardly surreptitious as she rolled her eyes.

"Come on Grace! You're an adult now! Eighteen only happens once, you have to make the best of it!" Zoe exclaimed.

"You know what else happens only once? You die once. The world ends once. You try once, and ironically, you fail many times. Life is just a huge game of Russian roulette. Every day, you either get up, or you don't. What's to celebrate about my one step closer to oblivion?"

Footsteps.

The girls looked away at the same time and took on a serious face, silently nodding to each other. Grace held her breath as Zoe slowly got up and reached for a nearby frying pan. Listening again for footsteps, the girls held their breath, not daring to make a sound. Crawling to safety behind a couch, the two girls sighed a small breath of relief before getting in a defensive position.

After a few minutes, Zoe slowly got up, heart racing at a thousand miles an hour. Holding the bat in a death grip, she carefully tip-toed toward the kitchen, where the footsteps seemed to be coming from. Grace watched from behind the couch, cowering in fear. With every step, Zoe felt that she was getting closer to death, every creaky floorboard an omen. She gathered enough courage to finally enter the kitchen.

Silence. All that could be heard was the wind, howling, as if taunting Zoe. Searching the kitchen, all Zoe could find was a window with a huge hole and tons of broken glass. The only problem? There was no noise. No indication that the window had been broken. Zoe glanced around nervously as Grace entered the kitchen.

"Did you hear something?"  
>"No, but the window is broken, it looks like someone made a dash for it."<p>

Grace walked to the window and delicately ran her fingers over the still somewhat intact window, trying to make sense of the whole situation. The eerie glow of the setting sun turned the room a red-orange color, the color of a burning flame.

The flame was about to go out.


End file.
